


tangible

by sprinklyzucchini



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: M/M, Mindless Fluff, POV Second Person, This Is STUPID, Zukka Week 2019, because I'm still a filthy homostucc sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinklyzucchini/pseuds/sprinklyzucchini
Summary: i wrote this (very, very late) for day 5: touchthere is like,,,,, only somewhat of that theme here I guess, I got distracted by fluff?basically: zuko outgays himself by a considerable margin in this.





	tangible

**Author's Note:**

> pls don't judge, i was unfortunately alcohol-and-sleep deprived while writing this :'(((

1.

the first time you feel it, you don't understand what or why it is that way. sokka had entered your cell after you finished dressing yourself in your new prison garb, a smile tugging its hardest along the corners of his mouth.

you find yourself not wanting to look at the guilt clouding his clear eyes, and suggest brainstorming about contingency plans - it brightens him up. you're not sure how you notice it, anyway - and then he's whispering out loud again, speaking fast like his speech should match the pace of his mind and then -

it's just his palm on your recently-dearmored shoulder, and his suddenly-loud voice (why is it loud? he should know better, or is it because it's the only thing you can hear past the fuzz in your ear?)

"hey, we're gonna get you out as soon as possible, yeah? I'm really sorry I compromised our mission like this, and you -" you cut him off with a slightly unhinged smile, because you can barely hold in your gasp from the way your shoulder feels like it's dissolving into static under that palm.

"it's okay, we will figure something out. you're still there." you know sokka feels guilty that you took the fall in what is technically supposed to be his mission, but you know he is sharp enough not to dismiss the advantage he still has.

and you trust him, which might be strange given the... but he doesn't know - "I trust you." you conclude, blunt and simple - and he withdraws his palm, jaw slack, eyes flashing with a smile before his mouth does.

"thank you," he says softly, and you feel he means that sentiment more than one way - and then he's tugging on his helmet and rushing out the gate before his presence in your cell becomes suspicious.

your shoulder and ear still ring with the aftershock.

2.

you would say you're getting used to the electric tingle you inexplicably get when sokka's around, but that would be a bit of a lie. ever since you came back from the boiling rock, with allies and assorted family and a pit in your stomach at the thought of mai - ever since, sokka keeps touching you more and more.

you suppose it was inevitable - you work well with him, and there was some implicit trust between the both of you, and you assume sokka is physically affectionate towards those he considers friends.

he catches you "brooding" on the lip of a fountain once - you were not brooding you were simply working yourself into a state of worry for Mai and the fact that your sister would definitely - he bumps his arm against yours to jolt you out of it, and is successful. you are still worried of course, just because you don't feel... that way for Mai doesn't negate the fact that you care about her. but this is all now back to static in your brain.

he asks to spar with you. you swallow the knot in your throat to say yes.

in the end, you're leading in most of the matches, and he takes it in cheerful stride, even though you see the fire of challenge in his eyes before your final spar.

in the end, the tip of his weird black sword is pressing against the soft spot under your jaw. his gaze is level, but excited, alive with something you can't name - oh _agni_ , you hope you did _Not_ just make that whining noise.

your entire face is alive with lightning, pinpricks of it on your cheek and jaw and temple. all from the sword. you wonder, crazily, if sokka's skin has some hallucinogenic quality to it and if it passes through the objects he holds.

3.

before sokka, you never knew touch could exist without actual point of contact, that you could feel tangibility in the way you knew he eyed you sometimes (the same way you did to him, you suppose) when he sat across from you, recounting the tragedy of what happened to his family and what it meant to katara - you felt the slightly-nasal, smooth candor of his voice physically wrap around you in that muggy, candlelit tent.

when you left (were hastily pushed out) you were glad to have insight on how to help katara, and hope to bury the hatchet between you.the downcast shimmer in sokka's eyes, framed by that ropey fall of hair, and the stupid druggy effect of his skin, still left your chest uncomfortably tight.

you try not to notice suki sneaking back through the flap you just vacated from, but you do, and your head throbs in a peculiar ache. you meditate. you have a long day ahead.

4.

katara pats your arm and smiles at you, reassuring you about your uncle. you are too distracted by the impending confrontation you're going to have, but it's good to have the support of a friend, especially one who, like your uncle, you had betrayed before. makes you feel like if katara forgave you, then surely uncle could... uncle could see that you tried to make things right for once.

in all this, kataras hand and voice are soothing and cool, much like the element she wields, but not electric in the way they don't haze up your brain, and you are not surprised by that, you just - you just realise that what you feel around sokka is probably specific only to him, and it's seemingly affecting you more than him.

you think sometimes that she knows.

the plans are well ahead in the making, scrambling to cover for aang's inexplicable absence. you are certain that if it wasn't a critical day in the history of the world, sokka and uncle would be several matches deep in a game of pai sho. you are not sure whether that's endearing or terrifying, but you manage to keep a level face throughout the pinpricks of his occasional glances your way.

right before you mount appa, and sokka the eelhound - he walks briskly over to you. you had thought both of you would just share a grim look of determination before you went off on your respective missions, but of course he had to go stick a jam into your careful avoidance of his touch.

when he hugs you, fierce and tight, you wonder why you even bothered with all that avoidance. you wrap a tentative arm under his shoulder, and he - he presses his mouth to your bare neck and murmurs a "good luck, buddy," and you _cannot_ \- you gasp, clutch him tighter and barely manage to get a "you too. be safe" out before you have to retreat, your entire being splitting into fractal branches of electricity, nerves singing, face probably red like you've eaten ten bags of fire flakes.

you make a silent vow to win this today, for your friends, for your nation, and the world, and so you can feel that again.

5.

katara was just cleaning up after changing your bandages  for a healing session, when sokka marched into the room followed by a hesitant guard.

you are momentarily caught off guard at seeing him again - only been a day but it feels like a week, actually with these new salves your physician has given you you're not actually sure how much time you've spent in a doze - katara only rolls her eyes, admonishes her brother for having the impatience of a newborn polar bear pup, and directs a smirk between the both of you before she leaves.

you barely remember to thank her, even knowing she would get teary eyed and grateful herself. then you register the smirk, and you _know_ she knows. oh, heavens.

you flap your mouth awkwardly, and you'd feel bad about that, except that sokka looks about the same - eyes trained on your bandaged torso and his hands constantly scratching the nape of his neck - then he bursts out in his usual theatric flair, rambling about his Dad and the kyoshi warriors and various nicknames for your father, the recently-dethroned fire lord. he stops abruptly in a rendition of 'loser lord' before directing a sheepish look at you.

"...sorry."

"it's okay. he did lose, after all."

words are a thing that's coming out of your mouth right now, you don't even care about how callous or ridiculous you sound. sokka's mere presence physically puts a dent in your ribs, and fire in your face, and you only want more of it.

sokka laughs at what you said, stops, then shakes his head. when he looks up, he looks so lost for a moment you're afraid he'll think he came to your chambers by accident, and leave.

instead, he crosses over at a speed that belies his current leg injury. deposits his crutch by the post and gingerly sits at your side, like he's afraid of jostling the bed too much. you huff at him, wanting to sit upright to face him better but stopped by the inevitable piercing pain around your abdomen.

next thing you know, you're giving him permission to examine it, and he runs his fingers lightly over the cloth, his expression twisted into a moue of fear and sadness.

without thinking, probably a combination of the heady salves and sokka being... him, you lift your hand to his knee, trying to reach the swathe of bandages just under. you hear his breath catch. you are both just sitting there, hands (almost) on your newest battle injuries, not speaking a word.

now you just feel dumb.

sokka finally breaks the silence. "so... about when we -"

"are you courting me?" you have lost feeling on the left side of your face years ago, but for some reason, you feel like your entire head is about to implode. agni, _why_ are you like this. _courting_?! yeah, excellent, sokka already thinks you're some prim and proper pra-

you blink as sokka laughs instead, sounding more like an ostrich horse than a boy - and looks at you like you've gone quite mad. you have. ironic, now that a nation rests upon your shoulders, and by ironic you mean unfortunate.

"jeez, why do you have to say it like that..." his hand is hovering near your collarbone, but even without actual skin contact you feel his touch like a brand. one that freezes and boils and zings I through your nerves, all at once. the imagery should be traumatizing, but it's one that brings you relief and that funny feeling in your chest. you know what it is, you just don't want to name -

"zuko? hey you... okay? you're breathing funny..."

you are fed up of this. you don't know about sokka, but you think you're even more impatient than he is. you hope his impatience implies what you want it to imply.

so you bring your hand up to cup the back of his head, bring his mouth down to yours. you feel his lips split against yours, feel the gust of his breathy laugh, feel his hand land on your collar and wind its searing way around your neck. you pull away.

"what's funny?” you hope the petulance isn't obvious in your tone, but from the twinkle in his eye (you can only squint at one eye at a time, your faces are so close), it probably is.

sokka nudges your nose gently, tilts your head back and presses his lips to yours, murmuring, "we are - _spirits,_ we've been such _idiots_ ," he laughs when you moan at his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip, "I should have been kissing you all _day_... all of these days..."

incredible. he's still talking. you are so fond of him you think you'll actually combust.

you tug at his hair to slot your mouths more firmly together, dizzy with affection, dizzy with want, dizzy probably from the impending lack of oxygen.

but you don't care. 

the aching physicality of everything sokka is, you feel like that's all you'd need to breathe in, dramatic as it sounds.

you have plenty of time to catch up.

**Author's Note:**

> (can someone do all my assignments I will pay them with art and at least like a quarter of my soul)
> 
> hope this read wasn't too terrible guys!   
> mwah mwah, love you, zukka is canon king motherfuckers, et cetera <33333


End file.
